Obsession
by Smaugtheterrible
Summary: Amy Dallon finally breaks, just in time to have a fresh trigger on her table, a trigger that goes from brunette to blond.
1. Chapter 1

Warning, this ones gonna be fucked up,

_Obsession_

Amy woke up to being shaken by her sister Victoria, the blond gently, at least for her, doing her best to wake the smaller brunette up. She blinked blearily as her sisters words came into focus.

"Ames! You got to wake up! Mom just got a call from Piggot, apparently a ward put some girl in the hospital, she's in critical condition, and the dads threatening to go public, so Piggot putting it all on the line, she's willing to give us whatever we want."

Amy stared at her sister as the words rattled through her head, and the familiar wash of Vickys aura came over her.

_VickyVickyVickyVickyVickyVicky_

She finally realized exactly what Vicky had said, and shot bolt upright in bed.

"Give me five minutes to get my costume on."

_Scene Break_

_VickyVickyVickyVickyVickyVicky_

Vicky's aura was washing over her, as strong as ever, its touch sending her whole body into a sort of gooey, purring, state as endorphins tingled their way across the back of her neck like slim fingers tracing their way up and down.

Amy snuggled in deeper to Victoria's embrace, wriggling her head into her hood. Victoria smiled down at her sister warmly. Hesitantly, Amy spoke up.

"V-Vicky, do you… Maybe… Want to go to the mall tomorrow?"

Amy hated the mall, but, especially while her sisters aura was singing so sweetly, well, it was something she might consider, especially if it was just _her _and **_Victoria_**.

**Alone.**

Victoria gave her sister a warm smile in surprise. But then frowned and shook her head.

"I'd love to Ames, but Dean and I have a date tomorrow, rain check?"

Amy felt a swell of irritation that _Dean_ of all people would have her sister all to himself, but the negative feelings were positively squashed under the _avalanche _of positive feelings coming from Victorias' aura.

**_VICKYVICKYVICKYVICKYVICKY_**

Amy shuddered and swatted her sister on the arm and hissed,

"Victoria! _Aura!_"

Glory Girl gave a sheepish grin as she slowed her approach to descend onto the roof of the hospital.

_Scene Break_

Amy Dallon, or, at least for now, Panacea stared down at the still breathing lump of diseased flesh, the reason she had been woken up at three in the morning. Panacea breathed out slowly as she idly cracked her fingers while reading through her new patients bedsheet.

Multiple infections, an amputation of both arms and one leg, a small number of internal pathogens, two separate forms of hep, and apparently tuberculosis. Somehow.

**_VickyVickyVickyVickyVickyVicky_**

Amy felt herself staring down at the girl, the hated, despised, girl, that had been apparently bullied and abused for almost two years, judging by the half healed broken bones, muscle tears and the number of other signs of physical abuse.

She had spoken to the father earlier, and apparently they'd been drifting apart for about that long, not talking, or communicating. The man had been cleared on any possibility of being a contributor to the abuse, at the very most the soggy man was simply neglectful. But that didn't change the fact that this girl, just like her, had no one that she could truly rely on anymore, had no one to be their truest self with. Not her so called mother, not her uninvolved father, and most ashamedly of all, not the person that she considered a sister, and secretly hoped for more, oh so much more.

Amy longed to be able to run her fingers through Victorias hair, press her lips to hers, and feel the beat of her sisters heart against her own.

But she couldn't have that could she? She couldn't have what she wanted? What she really, really wanted. Because that would be too easy, because that would mean, for once she wasn't acting as a hero should.

**_BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN SHE LOVED HER SISTER_****.**

But as Amy stared down at her patient, at her _canvas_. She found herself looking not at the person in the bed, but at the _future_. Or, rather the person that could be her sister, or even **better** than her sister.

And all it would take was one, _single, _**_touch_**.

_End of Chapter 1_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

Panacea gently traced fingers across the rippling, shifting flesh of her canvas, diseased skin, becoming ivory and porcelain, and in turn, becoming, tanned, kissable skin, skin that she felt the need to trail kisses down. Legs lengthening and become long, slim swimmers legs. Arms also lengthening, becoming gymnasts arms, corded with muscle, with pianists fingers crowing her canvas's hands, like jewels crowning a necklace.

Then was the chest and stomach, large, full breasts coming into existence over a flat, taut stomach that made Panacea's mouth **_water_**. Hips built for childrearing and the _butt_, well, lets just say, the old saying of being able to bounce a quarter of it? You could bound a _gold bar_ of it.

And then the face, the ever important face. The thing that would prove to her, and to others who her canvas was. First was the blond hair, long and lustrous, falling around her pillow like a halo of flickering light. Next was the forehead, wide, with a prominent brow. Next was the brow, pulled and angled in just the right way, all to frame the _eyes_, the eyes, the ever important eyes, the light blue eyes, like the clear blue sky, like the pure blue waters of a story book.

The, nose, cute, slightly upturned, but with a regal set and definition, providing the perfect counterpoint for the mouth, and _oh_ what a mouth it was, with full, _plump_, peach colored lips, lips that covered teeth that were like perfect ivory tombstones, bright, and perfect.

And finally, and most importantly, the _mind_. The selling point, the most important point, the leash that would keep them tied together **forever**.

But, just a split second before Amy placed a hand on her head, she could feel herself pause.

This… This would be the difference between being a hero and a villain.

It was also a choice between being alone, and _having _**_someone_**.

In the end, her choice was no choice at all.

_Scene Break_

Danny Hebert started upwards as he heard a scream coming from his daughters room. It didn't sound like his daughter, but it also didn't sound like Panacea from the brief period of time that he talked with her.

Either way, someone who might be hid daughter was in trouble.

He followed, a step behind Glory Girl, who stopped suddenly, he managed to weave himself around the younger woman and the felt himself stop, his breath leaving him in a rush like he had just been gut punched.

In the bed where he had just left his newly legless, dying, brown haired daughter, was now a taller, _curvier_, blond haired clone of the attractive young woman, currently being held down by a struggling, yelling Panacea.

Danny felt himself turn and smile weakly at Glory Girl.

"Do, do you happen to have a twin that I don't know about? Im not quite up on cape affairs as I'd like."

Glory Girl just shook her head, her face pale.

Panacea turned and saw her sister, and yelled, her brown hair coming undone as she yelled at her sister.

"VICTORIA! Get over here and help me strap her down!"

_End of Chapter 1_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Carol Dallon stared at the copy of her daughter that was currently staring out the nearest window with a vacant, drooling expression.

This…. _New_ _problem _that had been made by Amelia.

Carol felt her fingernails dig into her palm, and her lips tighten into a snarl of rage, that was surpassed quickly by the whinging hum of her forming hard-light weapons that sputtered into a momentary existence, and that out again, in again, out again, in a pattern of frustrated acts.

She had known, from the second she had seen the girl that she would be trouble, the way the girl had looked at her, standing in between her and her father, she should have known that the girl would become a villain.

There was a moan, possibly someones name, and Brandish scowled.

She should have shoved a knife through that _things_ chest the second she saw it.

Now everything she had done, everything she had sacrificed, everything she had this absolute crap shoot to deal with, this utter morass of filth she and the rest of New Wave would have would have to wade through in order to make it to the other side.

_Scene Break_

Victoria Dallon, sometimes known as Glory Girl, sat in her darkened room, the lights off, her sister, somewhere else, and to be honest, she had a hard time caring, she had seen the thing that her sister, no, that _Amelia_, had turned that poor girl into, and it was like she had copied everything about Vicky's body onto the girl, before making removing the flaws and then making every effort to perfect her looks.

In all honesty, the thing that was laying on that hospital bed was _too_ perfect, if the girl ever regained her mind, she would have to watch where she went when she ventured outside, otherwise she might end up causing traffic accidents, hell, the PRT would probably want to register her as a Master 0 because of it.

Vicky frowned as a thought occurred to her.

The girl would be going out and causing that kind of havoc with _her _body. Not on her watch. Amy better have a to fix this.

Glory Girl stood up, and walked out the door, leaving it hanging off its hinges.

_Scene Break_

Jessica Yamada almost bit her tongue when she read the email that she had been sent. Panacea had apparently managed to turn a… huh, bio-terrorism victim into a, what was described as a 'perfected' version of her sister. She had been requested to come attempt to get a read on the both the victim and the perpetrators situations, especially since the latter had apparently just started talking.

She sighed, feeling aching muscles protest as she began to pack.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

A hand waved a lit cigarette, spilling ash as smoke gently wound its way from its orange tip.

"Do you know what obsession feels like? Its like a craving that doesn't go away.."

The cigarette was ground against an ashtray that had been screwed onto the metal interrogation table.

"A craving, it might go away for a time, it might be partially quenched by indulging in it, gut in the long term the needs, the _urges, _always return stronger then ever, until you are droolingm, until you find yourself doing something and you have no idea why, until you find yourself waist deep in a fresh grave, your mouth wet with blood, and your fingers stained with grave dirt, When all you started out with was a normal, _happy _family."

Another cigarette was taken out and held in between two slim, tobacco stained fingers, a red lighter sparked to life, a yellow-orange flame bringing the tip of the cigarette to life.

The woman sitting on the opposite end of the table nodded companionably, a smile fixed to her vaguely asian features, her voice was calm, its tones smooth as she finally spoke.

"So. Is that why you used your power on Taylor Hebert?"

A uncharacteristic smirk spread across the mousey brunettes lips, turning what what a unremarkable face into something that sent shivers down the other woman spine.

"Oh, is that what I did? I thought I saved a girl who's power interacted strangely with mine, turning her into what she is now."

Panacea, the foremost healer on the planet leaned forward across the table, while Jessica Yamada suppressed the urge to scoot her chair back from the parahuman in front of her.

"And if you think otherwise, I ask you to _prove _it."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter five_

Somewhere in rural Wisconsin, a man is a white, starched shirt and tan khakis stared idly while he worked on his newest… _friend._

And while he worked, he talked.

"Do you know who the the Marquis De'Sad is?"

There was not answer other than whimpering and sucking gasps from the person on the table.

"I'll take that as a no, the Marquis is the reason our word for taking pleasure from pain in almost every language is known as Sadism, they slapped his name into a word, and a few hundred years later, voila, a man has been immortalized through his art and passion."

The man shook his head sadly.

"Truly, it is the men who commit the greatest acts of violence, who are remembered the most."

The was a slight squelch and a splash of blood squirted out, staining the man's white clothing.

"My apologies, anywho, where was I… Ahh yes, the Marquis, was both a rather impressive man, and a good writer, in one of his essays, he wrote on the nature of pain. Pain he said, was like any other emotion or drug. As time goes by, the subject naturally begins to grow, not immune, but _used_ to the sensation that the subject is receiving, and as such, in order to keep the sensations of pain fresh and new, the method of delivery must be changed, but of course that new method will eventually become stale as well, necessitating a sort of eventual plateau where the subject has been completely broken, and thereby inured to any new sensation."

The man leaned in close to the person strapped to the table.

"And that, my friend, is where my passion lies, pushing that envelope, delaying that plateau as long as I can, insuring that the peak continues ever higher, do you think you can help me with that?"

There was a whimper.

"_Wonderful._"

A few hours later, the man walked out of the room, his once pristine clothes covered in blood, and other vital fluids.

A girl dressed in a white pinafore dress was sitting enraptured in front of the tv, watching one the national news channels, enraptured, her hands clapping with little spasms of glee every so often.

"Hey uncle Jack, do you think we can go too Brockton next?"

The man smiled indulgently at one of his greatest works.

"Of course little Riley, I don't see why not, after all, everyone one has someone of interest there"

_Scene Break_

In the bowels of the now cordoned off Brockton General, there, lay a patient under armed guard, a blond patient that no guard was allowed in contact with for more than twelve hours, otherwise, as it appeared, the guard in question would become… _off_.

Not violent, no, never that, just, _preoccupied_. With the patients comfort, then with their general well being, eventually they would begin talking and conversing with patient as though they were fully capable of responding, laughing, joking, and on one memorable occasion, even singing.

But now, now, she was waking up, brain activity was cycling up, heart rate and blood pressure raising and dropping rapidly as it flooded chemical and adrenaline to every corner of the body.

Fingers and toes began twitch as the brain began to send neurons until the body responded to every impulse, and yes, the eyes opened revealing silver white orbs that were like silvered topaz, and like a zombie rising from the grave, she sat up abruptly from her hospital bed, and with a sultry, seductive hiss.

"**_Ammmyyy…_**"

She was off, walk thing through doors, walls, and anything or anyone else in her way.


End file.
